Physics Textbooks
by singingstarryknights
Summary: A few moments of intimacy inspired by academia. A blend of smut and fluff and affectionate love. DannyLindsay.


Physics Textbooks

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A few moments of intimacy inspired by academia

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DannyLindsay. Gratuitous fluff. And Smut. Mostly smut. For Sugah Sugah, an expression of my gratitude for her kindness, and general existance.

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Lindsay Monroe slipped the key in the lock of Danny's apartment seven hours after her shift was supposedly over. The apartment was silence, dark, with the exception of his easy breathing, and the muted television displaying a rerun of Seinfeld the respectively.

She shut the door behind her with a quiet click, and shed her jacket, draping it casually over his on the hook. She smiled, tiptoeing around the apartment, blowing out the candle that had dwindled on the tiny dining room table, eyeing the romantic potential the pair of wine glasses had as they flanked the elegant candlestick, noting that he had set out her favorite brand of Merlot, with a delicate ring of dried moisture on the tablecloth, indicating it had, at one point, been above room temperature. A few yards away, she heard him shift on the sofa, laying casually, asleep across the cushions. She sighed, starting to feel a bit guilty; he had set up all of this, obviously planned a romantic evening for them, and she had gotten herself stuck in the lab. She kicked off her shoes quietly before making her way to the couch.

"Danny." When he didn't stir, she tried again, halfheartedly. "_Dan_." Nothing. She loved seeing him so relaxed, vulnerable, even. A quick glance around the coffee table ensured that his delicate frames were set on top of his well-loved copy of The Godfather, holding open the binding to the page where Michael tells Kay not to ask about his work.

There were like that sometimes.

Sometimes the cases were just too difficult, especially if they didn't have the opportunity to work them out together.

Seeing he was still asleep, she curled her fingers around the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head, and dropping it over the novel, leaving the white camisole hanging snugly on her torso. There was no Italian mafia in these walls. No Corleones, no Tanglewood Boys. Just them. She smirked, remembering her partway self-destructive habit of falling for the bad boys. Fortunately for her, she found herself a dangerous façade with a genuine heart. It was his smile that gave him away.

His smile remained unadulterated.

"Hey Detective." She called to him a bit louder, nudging his thigh with her knee, standing over him with a gentle grin on her face, not hesitating to display the contents of her heart across her features, despite him still being asleep. That soon changed, however, when she nudged him again, rougher, and he snapped back to conscious, adorable confusion all over his face before he caught sight of her.

"Hey." He shot her a charming grin, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "I thought you were gonna be home earlier." He waved dismissively at the table. "We could still eat, though, stick the wine in the freezer, nuke the Parm in the microwave." His offer sounded unbelievably tempting- she was hungry. But then again, the gentle twist and curve of his muscles beneath his shirt was starting to make the Italian on the couch look so much more appetizing than reheated Italian, homemade or no..

"Nah. Not that kind of hungry." He chuckled softly, cocking an eyebrow at her, pleasantly surprised at her straightforwardness. He twisted again, settling flat on his back, and held a hand out to her. She climbed on top of him, shooting him a vixenly grin before pressing a suggestive kiss against his lips, making him groan. She straddled his hips gasping into his mouth as his palms slid up her thighs with a heated pressure, catching her attention.

Danny deepened their kiss, slipping a hand into her curls, holding her securely to him, taking her bottom lip between both of his as he sat up, pushing her onto her back. In her handful of other sexual relationships, she had usually been the one in control. The one calling the shots. The one on top.

But there was something exotically arousing about surrendering to him. She'd never put her finger on it, really. The pressure he caused, it was purely an expression of his Y chromosome, but it stole her thoughts from under her, reduced her to a pile of squirming whimpers, muffled by his lips assaulting hers.

He crashed his lips against hers roughly, pushing into her, feeling her inhale sharply, rolling her head to the side. She groaned softly, breaking away from his kiss in a tortured whimper, biting her lip to keep from crying out as he dribbled a trail of affection along the slope of her neck. She arched into him, squirming at the prospect of being pinned between him and the couch, his control fell to gentle but firm, the strength in his arms, in his hip, giving her nowhere to go.

She had never given other men such physical power over her. Had never let herself be pushed against anything, had never given up her carefully constructed control. Submitting to anyone was hardly a good idea, first they take control, and then they escalate. One didn't have to be a CSI to see that behavioral pattern.

Feeling the taut of the muscles along his arms, though, she didn't think twice about surrendering completely to him.

His kisses were rough, the pressure he caused heavy against her thigh, and she cringed. Not as an aftermath of his dominating tendencies, but rather because of the itch he had caused, him and his gentlemanly nature. He'd kiss her bruisingly like this, make her groan, leave his mark, capture her against the wall, the couch, the lockers, but never take her. Always, he would shy from that, from overpowering her. He could have, easily, and she would have let him. Encouraged him.

He tasted soft, affectionate, despite the commanding nature of the muscles in his arms, the presence of his hip nudged more than snugly against her thigh. He chuckled into her, amused at her frustration with him. He had learned in the early hours of their fervent fling that the gentler, sweeter he became with his affection, the more agitated she became with him and the heat he had caused but had not tended to.

Secretly, he loved getting under her skin, getting her restless only resulted in louder moans once they got to her bedroom or his. His laughter continued, reverberating through her as his kisses turned down her neck, then around to her ear, causing her to squirm severely. She struggled against him, trying in vain to get him to make good on his opening bet right there on the couch.

Nothing.

He wouldn't push it further.

"This is not funny, Messer. You can't-"

"Yeah, okay." There was an ease of humor in his voice, and she rolled her eyes, pushing him away gently. He cocked an eyebrow at her, but started to pull away.

"Whoa, no." She sat up halfway, grabbing the front of his tee shirt, and pulling him back down over her. She was vaguely aware of his arm around the small of her back, lifting her off of the couch, and carrying her down the hall to his bedroom.

He tumbled on top of her, working the clasp of her dress pants expertly, slinging them over her hips and down her legs in a swift movement before lifting his arms to help her shed his tee shirt. She let him take control, giving in to the gentle pressure of his fingers, the dull throb of heat as she felt him against her intimately. Her breathing became erratic as the scruff of his unshaven jaw left the skin of her collarbone pink and raw.

"Dan-" He cut her off, taking over her mouth, pressing her into the mattress, faltering in his resolve only just as she edged his jeans over his hips with her knee, gripping his shoulder with one hand, reaching out to trace his tattoo with the other. He'd missed her, in the handful of hours that he was home and she was in the lab. She was beautiful, wavy curls spread unceremoniously on his pillow, marks of pink along her neck and chest, her breathing in a syncopated staccato rhythm.

He lost it, claiming her mouth possessively and wrapping a finger around the crotch of her panties. He pushed into her quickly, causing her to gasp and cry out, arching against him. She shifted, running her hand along his jaw, pulling him toward her and taking his bottom lip between both of hers, pushing up against him, making him fill her to his hilt, breaking his concentration.

"Jesus, Montana." He cringed, fighting to regain control over his biology, pleading with whichever God would listen in this particular time of debauchery to not let him end first. Moments later his prayers were answered as he felt her legs tighten around his hips, squirming against him, breaking their kiss. He followed quickly, collapsing on top of her as he waited for the beating of her heart to slow to her normal resting pace. He curled into her, closing his eyes drowsily as she ran her fingers delicately through his hair, making it stick up in a dishelveled manner that brought a smile to her lips, swollen from kisses, red from the friction from his goatee.

She watched the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders with each breath, dozing off to a delicate sleep, with the soft beat of Danny's heart serving as a lullaby against her hip.

God, she loved this man.

Lindsay woke to the feel of Danny's fingers seeking her out, in the dark of the bedroom, pulling her body flush with his, leaving a trail of labored kisses along her neck, making her groan softly in an amused protest. She tried to roll over, pushing him away, but he tangled his fingers in hers, reaching over her petite frame, restricting her motions.

"Dan, I'm tired." The timbre of her voice was weary indeed, and he chuckled softly at the gentle whine in it. He shook his fingers free of hers, pulling them in to run along the plane of her stomach, rounding out the curve of her hip, applying even pressure to her thigh, making her twist her shoulders to face him. He threw her one of his more charming smiles, assaulting her mouth with heavy kisses, letting his fingers wander to the delicate skin along the inside of her thigh, causing her to groan and buck against him, squirming slowly.

She was incredibly easy to turn on, he had found. Like she'd never been touched before, like everything was new. She broke their kiss, twisting away from him as his fingers found her center. He leaned over her, twirling his fingers expertly, placing affectionate kisses along the underside of her jaw. She inhaled sharply, biting her lip.

"Fuck, Danny." She twisted again, trying to turn over in his grasp, but he leaned against her, keeping her shoulders flush with his chest. She groaned, rolling her head back into the crook of her shoulder as she felt him against her, accepting the fierce of his kiss as he shifted her leg and pushed into her, making her cry out into his mouth. Danny pulled almost all the way out again before pushing back in, making her writhe beside him. He let out a breath in a labored manner, an elongated staccato to match the rhythm of his hip. His smile slid into a grin as she cringed, biting her lip from crying out and waking his neighbors.

"God, Dan." She breathed, shifting her hips against his, increasing the pressure.

"We hadn't tried this one yet," he groaned as she shifted the angle unexpectedly, struggling for words for only a moment. "Anything's worth a shot."

The husky quality of his voice made her squirm against him harder, breaking his resolve, and making him push into her further, the feel of her around him edging him to the brink of his end. His fingers left her thigh, lighting a fire along her stomach and kneading her breast, causing her to cringe, whimpering as he felt her tighten around him, then relax against his chest. He pushed into her one more time, battering her mouth with devoted attention, stiffening and exhaling audibly against her kiss.

He pulled out of her, only now allowing her to rotate in his hold, throwing her an intoxicated grin as she wrapped her arms leisurely around his shoulders, accepting the gentlemanly display of affection he dropped to her lip, hooking her knee around his hip in a companionable gesture of familiarity and comfort that cause a dull burn in his chest that he had come to recognize as love.

"Where'd you pick that one up?" He smiled, tiredly, at her amused inquiry, chuckling as he dropped a kiss to her cheek, and snuggled into her, pulling her close, and kissing her collarbone. "Dan."

"Physics textbook." She laughed aloud, pushing him over so he lay flat on his back, smirking at her with a loving gaze tainted with the Staten Island spark that she had stumbled over when she tripped into love with him. She arched an eyebrow at him, and he broke into a husky laugh, wholly amused. "Okay, okay, _The Kama Sutra_."


End file.
